


Cherry Popping

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Series: Food Porn [8]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: College, Except only kind of, Feeding Kink, Food, Food Kink, Food Play, Ice Cream, Kind of a Slow Burn for a One-Shot, M/M, Surprise Kink, oh my god they were roommates
Language: eesti keel
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: Rhett's obsessed with Cherry Garcia ice cream, and Link's disinterest makes Rhett want to pop his Cherry (Garcia, anyway). But Link's eating habits lead Rhett into more problems than he's expecting.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/A Pint of Cherry Garcia, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal/A Pint of Cherry Garcia
Series: Food Porn [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558264
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	Cherry Popping

Link stared at the ceiling. He’d intended to take an afternoon nap, but with the lights in the room still on, that was proving difficult. Usually, he had no trouble. An arm slung over his eyes blocked the light out effectively. But this time, sleep was elusive because of the obnoxious, obscene way Rhett was licking the top of the ice cream seal. The sound was purely disgusting. For every remark Rhett had made about how annoying Link’s eating was, Link could have said the same about the damn Cherry Garcia habit Rhett had.

For one, when he stocked up on the discount ready-to-expire ones, they didn’t have freezer space in their mini fridge for weeks. For two… this noise. This gross slurping sound as he peeled the seal back on the container, then lapped up the ice cream on the seal, all  _ sllp shllop slllp sllllllp shhhllurrp _ . So, Link wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was fuming. “Dude. Can you do that a little quieter?”

“Do what?”

“That whole lid-lickin’ thing you do,” Link said.

“Oh. Like this?” Rhett demonstrated, even louder.

Link sat up, peeling a sock off and throwing it at Rhett. “Screw you, man. I’ll go nap somewhere else.” A lumpy lounge room couch would be better than his bed if Rhett wouldn’t stop what he was doing.

* * *

Rhett couldn’t get enough of Cherry Garcia. There was something about it. For one, it was usually hidden behind other flavors at the C-Store, which meant there was always a lot of it left over. He walked across the hall, cash in hand already because he wasn’t bothering with a wallet. He’d barely bothered to throw on his shower shoes and sweatpants. “Hey, man,” he said casually, heading for the freezer.

“Back for more already?”

“Gotta get my afternoon fix,” Rhett said, swinging the door open and grabbing two containers, plopping them on the counter.

“Double-fisting today?”

“Nah, man. Sharing. My roommate’s been giving me all kinds of hell, and I think it’s because he hasn’t tried it yet.” Rhett plopped the money on the counter, three cents shy of the exact total.

“I got you. I know you’re good for it next time,” he said, taking the money and putting it in the register. “See you around.”

As soon as he walked in the door, Rhett could see Link’s shapeless lump on the top bunk. He’d only been gone a minute or two, but that had been long enough, apparently, for Link to get back from class and curl up in bed for his afternoon nap. No way he’d be asleep already, Rhett thought. He tossed an ice cream onto the bed, basketball style, hitting Link in the side.

“Ow! What the heck?” Link shot up, grabbing the offending ice cream and hurling it back at Rhett.

Thankful for his quick reflexes, Rhett grabbed it and batted it back at Link with his hands. “It’s a peace offering, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Link said, turning it over in his hands. “No thanks.” He scrunched his nose and held it out in his hand for Rhett.

“Why not? Why don’t you want the ice cream?”

“Sounds gross.”

Link was the pickiest man alive, and Rhett rolled his eyes.

“Just try it, man. I bought you my favorite ice cream so you could understand it, so you could  _ try  _ it. I’m gonna pop your Cherry...Garcia, so to speak.” He snorted and pushed Link’s hand back at him. “Come on. Try a bite. Or heck, man, lick the seal and you’ll get the flavor and can decide.”

Link rolled his eyes. “Screw you. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Okay. Suit yourself.” Rhett walked over to his desk, grabbing a Sharpie and scrawling LINK’S. DO NOT EAT. He shoved it into the freezer and grabbed his own ice cream, heading for the lounge so he wouldn’t bug Link with the label slurping.

* * *

Link opened the fridge for a pop, seeing the freezer flap slightly ajar. He sighed. Rhett must have stuffed a million Big Macs into it again. He flipped it open, hoping to reposition them, and saw the ice cream, writing on the side. LINK’S. DO NOT EAT. Link wondered if it was meant to be some kind of misprint, meant to say LINK, DO NOT EAT. He shrugged. Too late now. He pulled it out of the fridge and inspected it, wondering if this was some kind of sick prank on Rhett’s part. Maybe he’d farted on it or something. Link had no idea.

But, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He pulled the top off, and the label was still intact. Chewing his lip, he grabbed a spoon from the clean spoon cup on top of the microwave and sat on Rhett’s bed. He’d sit on his own, but no one was crawling up a ladder just to sit and eat ice cream.

Just as he peeled back the label, the door swung open. Link blushed, putting the spoon down like he’d been caught jacking off or something, caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. He glanced up at Rhett.

“Oh heck yeah, got here just in time!” Rhett hooped, pumping his fist in the air excitedly.

“In time for what?” Link asked.

“For you to get your Cherry Garcia popped,” Rhett winked.

“Would you stop sayin’ it like that? I’m eating ice cream. Stop making it weird.”

“No way, man. This ain’t ordinary ice cream. Once you get your cherry popped on this stuff, you can’t go back. Go on. Lick the lid before it gets all melty and gross.” He smirked, pulling up a desk chair and sitting backward in it, legs spread as he leaned forward, hands on the back of the chair, grinning at Link.

“It’s weird if you watch.”

“It’s weirder if I don’t.” He stared Link down.

“Oh my gosh, fine.” Link lifted the foil lid to his mouth, sticking his tongue out and lapping the ice cream off the lid. “Satisfied?”

“You missed some.”

Link rolled his eyes, then tried again, placing the back of the foil against his hand and licking the length of it, eyeing Rhett. Still, he realized, not enough to make Rhett happy. He took the foil and folded it in half, sticking it in his mouth and slurping it off with an obscene, annoying sound. “Are you happy now?”

“Yeah, Link. That’s real good. That’s… now you can just dig in.” Rhett licked his lips.

“Jeez, man. You’re looking at this ice cream like it’s a chick you want to make out with.” Rhett was practically drooling. The look on his face was damn near lustful, and Link was shaken by it.

“It’s just good ice cream,” Rhett breathed, shifting in his seat. If Link didn’t know better, he’d think he was adjusting his shorts, and Link wasn’t sure how to handle that realization, or that thought crossing his mind.

“Yeah, okay, man. You want to finish it? I mean, I did what you wanted, right? Licked the seal?”

Rhett nodded. “Yeah, man. The seal’s the best part. Hey, remember how you used to eat pudding? No spoon?”

Link shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

“Bet that ice cream tastes real good with no spoon,” he says, licking his lips.

Link was starting to feel like this really could be a sexual experience for Rhett, some kind of gratification from watching Link eat it, or maybe just from the thought of getting to eat the ice cream himself. “Why are you looking at me that way?” he asked.

“What way?” Rhett sat up a little straighter, looking away from Link.

“Like—” Like it turns you on, Link thought, but he wasn’t brave enough to actually say it. “Like no way, I dunno, man. You sure you don’t want the ice cream?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I just want to know if you like it.” Rhett’s eyes were still glued to Link, or more specifically, his lips, darting between his mouth and the carton.

“And you want me to eat it without a spoon?”

“I mean, if you want to, I’m saying you could. You used to with pudding cups. No different, is it?”

Link licked his lips and looked at the carton, the smooth, unblemished, untouched surface of the ice cream, then looked at Rhett, and then he ran his tongue along the surface, head turned a little so Rhett could see. For whatever reason, Link felt like he was putting on some kind of show, and for whatever other reason, Link sort of liked the thought of that anyway.

“So?” Rhett asked.

“So, it’s… not bad, I guess?” Link answered.

“Try more. You just haven’t gotten to the cherry chunks yet.”

Link took another lick, then another, lapping at the ice cream, feeling it give way to the chunky bits of chocolate and the soft cherries, flicking his tongue around a cherry and fishing it out, pointed and careful. After chewing it, he smiled. “Yeah, okay, it’s good.”

Rhett licked his lips. “Yeah, I knew you’d love it,” he said, breath in his voice and his tone low, eyeing Link with dark eyes. “Anyway, uh, enjoy.”

Link could tell there was something up, something about Rhett that was thrown by this whole situation. “The heck is up with you, man?” he asked, licking the ice cream again. “You jealous I’m into your favorite flavor? Thinking I’m gonna buy it out at the C-Store? I like it, but not  _ that  _ much.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Jealous you like the same flavor as me.” Rhett shrugged. “Anyway, yeah. Enjoy that.” He stood up and tossed Link a spoon, heading out the door. Link couldn’t get over how weird he was acting, ignoring the spoon and licking the ice cream out of the carton some more.

* * *

Rhett stood in the bathroom stall, hand slapped against the wall, stroking himself. There was an unwritten rule that Link’s study time was not Rhett’s jack off time. He could do it when Link was asleep, bed shaking be damned, and the best time was when Link was gone, but sometimes he needed to when that wasn’t an option, and now was one of those times.

Things had started innocently enough. He’d gone to the C-Store, grabbed his Cherry Garcia and a new pack of mechanical pencils, and sat down, peeling the seal off and licking the top, much to Link’s annoyance. But then he’d faced another issue. Every lick, every spoonful, only made him think about Link licking at the carton, and that wasn’t okay. Thoughts of Link’s tongue were the last thing he needed to have his mind on, so he left, rushing out of the room, stuffing his ice cream in the freezer. And that left him here, jacking off desperately and doing anything he could not to think about Link Neal or his freakishly long, prodding tongue. No, he was thinking about anything but that. The girl in his math class with the pretty long blond hair and the one in his biology study group with stunning brown eyes.

Anything but Link. Not Link, with his brown hair and those blue eyes and the way his face looks when he’s enjoying something, how his tongue flicks over the foil seal and how...before Rhett realizes it, he’s cumming, straining as his hand grips against the wall, fingertips turning white as they dig into the cinderblock wall. “Jeez,” he muttered to himself, turning to sit down, panting hard.

* * *

Link said nothing for days. Nothing about the fact that Rhett was no longer buying Cherry Garcia, having switched to Chunky Monkey, and nothing about the way Rhett acted so strangely around him.

But the tension was thick. The awkward silences could only go on for so long before Link started to crack. He’d even gone so far as going to the C-Store and buying Cherry Garcia, adding a note that said “Rhett, thanks for sharing my new favorite flavor. Dig in.”

Except Rhett hadn’t touched the pint. Days had gone by and Rhett had opened and closed the freezer and even read the note, but he hadn’t touched the pint. Link sat down at his desk, staring Rhett down. “Okay. What gives?”

“What?”

“You’re avoiding me. You didn’t eat the ice cream I bought. Now you’ve changed flavors entirely. Is the idea of me being a fan of Cherry Garcia really that offensive to you that you can’t have the same favorite flavor as me?” Link asked, rushing the words out quickly and glaring. “You make no sense, and you’re acting weird.”

“I’m not. It’s fine. And I just wanted a different flavor. Is that good enough of an answer for you?”

“No,” Link said. “No, it’s not good enough. You’ve eaten Cherry Garcia since we got here, but even when you’ve dipped your toes in the Chunky Monkey pond for a day or two, you’ve always come back around, and this time? You didn’t! What gives?”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “I just don’t want to eat Cherry Garcia anymore.”

“So you popped my Cherry… Garcia and then you don’t even want to indulge in it with me? Great, Rhett. Thanks.” Link turned around and stalked to the freezer, grabbing the one he’d purchased from the C-Store for Rhett and pulling off the lid.

“You’re mad about this? Mad I won’t eat your damn ice cream?” Rhett growled. Now he was pissed off. This had gone from Link being annoyed to Link being fine to Link being pissed off and it was all over some ice cream. Rhett was over it, and at this point, he never wanted to see another damn pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Ever.

“Mad about the ice cream? No. I’m mad that you’re being a jackass over some ice cream for no reason at all!” Link grabbed Rhett’s hand, putting the pint in his grip and closing Rhett’s hand around it. “There. Eat. Lick the lid, be noisy and disgusting, I don’t care!”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Screw you.”

“No. You can man up and eat the stupid ice cream or you can tell me what’s bugging you and why you won’t eat the ice cream anymore.” Link was fed up. Rhett’s obsession with the ice cream had never made sense to him in the first place, and it wasn’t unusual for Rhett to drop something as quickly as he’d become obsessed with it, but this seemed ridiculous even for him.

“Fine. I’ll eat the ice cream.”

For whatever reason, that sent Link into more of a rage. “Oh, so you’ll eat this to avoid telling me what the hell is wrong with you? Got it.”

“You gave me a choice. I’m taking the choice. How is that a problem?” Rhett pulled off the seal and watched Link’s face as he licked the ice cream off of the foil, lapping at it and staring Link down with angry eyes.

Link watched him, watched Rhett shift uncomfortably in his seat, and as Rhett put the pint down beside him to ask “Are you happy now?” Link realized Rhett had a raging erection. No amount of moving, of trying to cross his legs or anything else, could hide the fact that Rhett was hard.

“Um. Yeah,” Link said. He sank down on the bed and stared Rhett down. “I’m not tryin’ to make things awkward, but do you want to explain why it seems like you want to fuck the pint of ice cream?” Link tugged at his own shorts, trying to make room for the budding hard-on he was already feeling. He didn’t even want to consider what the implication of that was. He just wanted to know what the hell was up with Rhett.

“No.”

“Will you explain it anyway? Because I’m kinda confused and weirded out, man.” Link raised his hands. “I’m not tryin’ to shame you. You’re into what you’re into. But ice cream?”

Link wasn’t even sure he could stomach a pint after considering that.

“I’m not into the ice cream,” Rhett said. “I’m into the fact that you… ugh, nevermind.” Rhett stood up and grabbed the lid to the ice cream and closed it, tossing it onto his desk. “I’m going to go study in the lobby.”

“Great, Rhett. Thanks.” Link hated to be left hanging.

* * *

Rhett paced back and forth. He knew that they needed to talk and he knew that the conversation wouldn’t be an easy one. He rehearsed what he’d say to himself. “Link, for whatever reason, the way you licked the ice cream was obscene and I can’t control my reac-- god, Rhett, you’re an idiot.” Rhett kept pacing. “I’m sexually attracted to the way you eat ice--” He sighed. None of this was helpful. “Link, I can’t take Cherry Garcia ice cream seriously anymore because of the way you look when you eat that stuff. Your tongue is obscene, man,” he said, resting his head against the concrete wall.

“Yeah?” Link asked. Rhett had no idea he’d even walked in the room.

Rhett blushed furiously. “How much of that did you hear?”

“The part where my tongue makes you so hot you can’t even cool off with ice cream.” Link climbed to the top of his bed and flopped down on it. “So what, then? You just never gonna eat ice cream? What if I change to Chunky Monkey. Am I gonna ruin that for you too?”

“I don’t know, Link,” Rhett said, exasperated. “I don’t know. Alls I know is, the Cherry Garcia has been torturing me and I don’t know what to do about it!” He adjusts his pants. He’s ashamed, but also a little bit aroused, flopping on the bottom bunk.

Link climbs down his ladder. “So… I just can’t eat it in front of you? Or should we try to rewire your brain so you like it again? Maybe I could lay off it for a few days…” Rhett can see he’s trying, but somehow it doesn’t help.

“I don’t care, Link. Do what you want.”

“Yeah? Do what I want? Because you know what?” Link walked to the freezer and pulled out a carton, setting it on the desk. “I had zero interest in that ice cream until you decided to ‘pop my Cherry,’ so to speak. None. Not at all. And then you got all forceful and stuff, all ‘Link, eat the ice cream. Link, don’t use a spoon. Link, lick it.’ And you know what? Now you having ice cream ruined for you is ruining it for me.”

Rhett turned over and faced the wall. “Yeah, well, sorry.”

Link stalked closer to him and stared him down. “Sorry? That’s all you got to say for yourself is sorry? Dang it, Rhett, come on. If you want something, just say it. If this is too much for you, friggin’ say it.” He glared at Rhett and grabbed his arm, flipping him over. “What is it about my tongue?”

“I dunno.”

“You do know, or it wouldn’t bother you so much. I mean, I’d get it if it were a damn popsicle, maybe it’s crossin’ some wires, but I licked some ice cream.”

Rhett blushed even more, shame on his face. “Do I really need to spell out for you what that looked like, Link? Do I have to actually say it?”

“Yeah, Rhett. Clearly you do, because I don’t get it at all.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Rhett asked, getting on all fours.

“Yeah, obviously.” Link wouldn’t have suggested doing this if he wasn’t okay with them trying this out. “Are you?” They’d discussed the issue, then stalled, and now they had no choice but to go for it. Or, they had a choice, but once the option had been presented, Link hadn’t been able to think of anything else, and if Rhett coming to him and saying he wanted to do this was any indication, he couldn’t stop thinking about it either.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Link opened the carton carefully, offering the foil seal to Rhett. He wouldn’t need it, and he didn’t want to spoil his appetite. Rhett’s bare ass was in front of him, right there, and Link couldn’t look away. “So… I guess it’s my turn to pop  _ your  _ cherry.” He spread him, dripping the still-cold, melted ice cream down his crack, watching the creamy mixture slide down. “Whoa.” Thinking about doing this was one thing, but the sight of it was quite another. Link leaned in. “I’m gonna do it now.”

“Just do it. It’s gonna drip down my leg!” Rhett yelped.

Link’s tongue found his leg, licking up the skin, then working up toward what he was really after, focusing on his sac for a while before landing against his entrance, lapping at the skin there. He pulled back to pour more on, lapping it up quicker this time, focused on one part of Rhett.

“Oh my god,” Rhett choked out.

“Good? Bad?”

“It feels so… weird. Good weird.”

Link couldn’t imagine how his tongue there must have felt, but if Rhett said it was good weird, that was his cue to keep going, so he did, flicking his tongue over Rhett’s tight hole again and again, faster.

“The ice cream is friggin’ cold, but then your tongue is warm, and… oh my god.”

Link smiled, pouring more of the ice cream on and catching it on his tongue before prodding in. He knew this would be a sticky mess later, but for now, it was delicious, and it was making Rhett moan, ungodly sounds coming from his mouth, even as he muffled his noises against his arm, biting into it as he rocked back on Link’s tongue.

Link could tell Rhett was already getting closer to the finish line from this alone. He could sense the closeness from the rapid breaths. “Good?”

“Still good.” Link smiled. Of course it was good. There was ice cream involved.

For good measure, he dripped a little more ice cream onto Rhett’s ass, catching some with his fingers and sliding one in, testing the waters and using the ice cream as lube. Rhett almost came unglued, gripping the sheets and throwing his head back as Link prodded his finger deeper, rubbing against a little nodule inside, then pulling it out to follow it with his tongue, lapping at the sweet ice cream inside.

“Hey, roll over,” Link said, pulling back and patting Rhett’s leg. When Rhett obliged, Link wrapped his lips around Rhett’s cock, taking it deeper than he expected to be able to. “I’ve never done this before,” he said, pulling off. “Bear with me.”

“Don’t think you have to have experience, man. First time has to happen for everybody.”

“Just one more way you’ve popped my cherry,” Link said, stroking Rhett’s cock and tapping the tongue against his tip before taking him deep again.

“I’m gonna cum…”

The realization he was close took longer than Link expected, but took less time than he’d hoped. He wanted Rhett to cum, obviously, but the thought of this being over so soon was a real bummer. Link smiled, pulling back and stroking, grabbing the container and guiding his cock into the empty carton, stroking until Rhett was cumming into it, a weird splatter sound as the jizz hit the softened cardboard.

“Dang,” Link said. “That’s hot.”

“No, Link. It’s cool. Ice cream… get it?”

Link smirked. “Got it.” He closed the lid on the container and shot it toward the trash, basketball-style.

Honestly, the whole ice cream thing might not be so bad, Link thought. He knew he was right when Rhett was grabbing him, flipping him, and pulling another carton off the floor near the bed, growling “your turn.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not Betad We Die Like Men


End file.
